But the mystery of what was on the upper floor of the house remained, and Sarah’s boredom continued to feed her curiosity in that regard.
Several days later, Sarah was still dusting several of the first floor suites, long past the time she should have gone down to the kitchen for luncheon. She had no appetite; either for food or for the cold disdain she expected would be dished up to her, so she continued with her pointless work.
With all the household staff gone downstairs to the kitchen, she decided that now was as good a time as any to do a little exploring. Once again she stood at the foot of the stairs that led to the upper floor. Even as she considered it, she didn’t feel in the least bit guilty, considering the ill treatment she had suffered at the hands of both the gentlemen and the staff. But guilt notwithstanding, she did experience the thrill of tension associated with the forbidden and the mysterious. She didn’t know what she expected – the landing was quite dark, given the storm clouds that covered the sun, and there was an ominous rumble of thunder, just as she placed her foot on the top step. But Sarah was not superstitious, nor was she afraid of any supernatural influences. The only thing she was afraid of was being caught by Rupert or Mrs Mirren.
The upper level was not unlike the middle one, a grand staircase with dark wooden panelling along all the walls, and an ornately woven Persian carpet runner covering the dark wooden stairs. It appeared that the layout of the rooms was the same as the floor below, and Sarah was amazed that the house seemed to have so many luxurious suites. She had heard her mother talk of her family home, and how grand it was, but of course, Sarah had never been taken there.
Sarah decided that she would see if these rooms were as beautifully decorated as the ones on the floor below. She started to explore room by room, and was not particularly surprised to find that these rooms were much the same as the ones to which she was allowed admittance for cleaning. She was a little disappointed that she had found nothing sensational, nothing, at least, to warrant such a stern warning from her superiors. What on earth are they trying to protect? There was nothing that she could see. Still she kept an ear tuned towards the staircase, for she had planned that she would quickly take the servants’ back stairs the moment she heard anyone coming up from below. But other than the rumble of thunder, and some howling wind whistling around the corners of the house, there was no other noise in the house. She knew Simon was not expected until late afternoon, and the rest of the staff should be assembled in the servants’ dining room downstairs. That was why she stiffened when she heard noise coming from the fourth room. It sounded like the cry of a man tormented in his dreams, and with the accompanying storm, it was enough to make her stop and listen carefully. There was no doubting the jolt of fear, but she was not going to be put off by it. Her courage matched her curiosity, and she ventured to open the door to the fourth room.
Having forgotten all about listening for the approach of other staff, Sarah went inside the room not sure what to expect, but was shocked when she found a body lying in the bed. If she hadn’t heard the noise from the room before, she would have thought the man was dead. The curtains were drawn, and the light very dim, so the man’s features were not clear, but there was something familiar about him. Moving across the room, and to the other side of the bed, she could now see the man’s face. It was Alan Mellington.
Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth, and she couldn’t help herself, moving immediately close to the bed. She didn’t know what to feel seeing him lying there, eyes closed, his face grey. But as she got closer, she saw that his chest was still rising and falling, his breath going in and out. Even though it was shallow breathing, he was definitely still alive. Without stopping to consider the consequences of her actions, she pulled the covers back and lay her head against his heart. It was still beating, though the pulse was not very strong.
“Oh, Alan,” she said, genuine heartfelt concern in her tone. “I thought we had you almost well.”
Quite suddenly she had forgotten her anger with him, and was back at the place where they had grown close, where she had begun to have feelings for him.
She loosened his nightshirt and pulled it back to examine the shoulder wound that she herself had stitched up. She expected to see it red raw and full of pus, as if it were infected, but to her surprise, it was healing very well. No sign of redness or infection of any sort. It was only a small step from there for her to go ahead and examine the wound on his thigh. She didn’t even stop to consider the impropriety of such an action. Again, she was surprised to see the wound was healing nicely. She quickly covered him up again, and felt his forehead for signs of lingering fever. There were none.
“Miss Montgomery! Get out of this room!” Rupert’s tone was sharp and authoritative. Sarah jumped, horrified at having been caught. Her heart was thumping at a thundering rate with the fright she experienced at seeing Rupert, not so much because she was here against orders, nor just because she was once again in a compromising position, but there was something else quite menacing about his sudden appearance and the look on his face.
“What is wrong with your master, Rupert?” she asked, hoping she sounded firm and that he wouldn’t detect the unease she felt. “His wounds have healed, his lungs sound clear. When I brought him back here several weeks ago, he was well on the way to recovery!”
“That is none of your concern, Miss Montgomery. You will leave this room at once!”
“I beg your pardon, Rupert, it is very much my concern. This man and I have been implicated in an act of indiscretion, the repercussions of which have left me without home and family. Apparently, this man confirmed the stories with a lie, which has made it worse for me, but seeing him like this... ” she looked at his poor colour and pinched features and was suddenly struck with a realisation. “My father never spoke to Sir Alan, did he?” she looked back up to the valet.
Rupert had the good grace to look ashamed. “Alan did not say anything about me, did he? Sir Simon has either told lies, or allowed my father to believe a distortion of the truth. That would be an accurate description of the situation, would it not?”
Quite suddenly, Sarah could clearly see how the rumour had been fuelled and spread. She began to feel quite light-headed as she began to think about the implications now that she knew the truth. Alan had not done wrong by her at all. It was Simon who had sealed her fate with his flippant words.
“It is none of my concern, Miss.” Rupert obviously wished to avoid any responsibility in the situation.
“That is very convenient, Rupert, however, it is my concern, and I mean to get to the bottom of what is going on here. I would very much appreciate your cooperation.”
Rupert held her gaze in an amazed but unyielding stare.
“Would you have Sir Simon come to his brother? I think it is time we had another discussion.”
“You have forgotten your place, Miss Montgomery,” Rupert retorted, still speaking with authority, though Sarah was unmoved by it.
“I’m sorry, Rupert, it’s just that Sir Alan is the only man who can really tell the truth about what happened. He looks as if he is near death. If he dies, then so does the truth... I cannot possibly allow that, Rupert. Please tell me you understand!”
“Sir Simon will not come at the command of a woman, much less a house servant!” Rupert persisted.
“Then tell him his brother is dead. I am still not certain that it is not Simon Mellington who tried to kill him in the first place!”
It had been an off-hand remark with no thought or intent behind it, but it was as if Rupert had been stunned by it.
“Rupert?” Sarah asked, immediately troubled by the look on his face.
Suddenly, Rupert turned on his heel and walked out of the room leaving Sarah to wonder at his reaction. She had just accused Simon Mellington of trying to kill his brother, and Rupert had reacted as if he’d been burned. What did that mean?
She began to calculate, adding up all the evidence before her. Alan was not sick from the f
ever associated with his wounds, or from a chest infection of any sort. This horrible illness was something else, and they had all tried to hide it from her.
Not that it’s any of your business, she quickly thought to herself. But then, she and Alan had talked about who might have wanted him dead, enough to try to shoot him. Was it Simon? Or Rupert? Did Mrs Mirren have something to do with trying to murder her master? All of these thoughts chased consecutively across Sarah’s mind, as she stood staring at the man who could save her reputation, if he survived.
Sarah didn’t know what to make of Rupert’s immediate reaction. Did he go because he felt guilty, or was he afraid that she would implicate him if he didn’t cooperate? Quite suddenly she was nervous. Alan was sick – very sick, and she didn’t know what it was that ailed him this time, and despite the fact that she was physically shaking in response to her own audacity, she meant to hold her ground. She needed Alan to be well. She needed him to help clear her from all the terrible claims that had been made about them.
She went back to Alan’s bed and began to try to rouse him. She tapped him lightly on his stubbly cheek. “Alan! Can you hear me? It’s Sarah.”
She thought she could see he was attempting to rouse from his unconsciousness, but he had not come round completely before the younger brother walked into the room.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, very obviously furious.
Am I in danger here? The thought came to Sarah the moment Simon came into the room.
“Why hasn’t a doctor been called to your brother?” she asked evenly, trying to ignore the fact that her mouth had gone dry with anxiety.
“Of course I’ve had a doctor in to see him!” Simon shouted angrily, “and I resent your implication!”
What, that you have tried to murder your brother, Sarah thought, but she didn’t voice this aloud.
“The doctor said it was just a residual effect from the sickness brought on by the wounds and the hypothermia!”
“Is this a man you trust?” she asked, trying to sound reasonable and calm.
“He is the family physician!” Simon said, enraged over her audacity.
“Then you look at his wounds. They are all but healed, he shows no signs of fever, his lungs are clear, no coughing or nasal discharge. This current ailment is something quite new altogether.”
“So you are a medical woman then, are you?” Simon said derisively.
“I have a good deal of common sense, which I used to save your brother’s life last time!” she replied quietly.
“Then by all means, save his life again! Your reputation is destroyed already, so you have nothing to lose!”
The remark about her reputation stung, but she didn’t react to it, focussing instead on the fact that Simon could very well physically attack her. She had no reason to believe that he would not.
“Get her out of here,” Simon spoke to Rupert. “I told you that you were to keep the under-staff away from this room.”
“I need to stay,” Sarah said as confidently as she could, despite her growing fear. “I need to make sure your brother gets better.”
Simon lost all patience and marched across the room towards her, the anger he felt evident on his face. Grabbing her by the arm, he began to propel her towards the door.
“I said you were not to be in this room, now get out!”
Sarah didn’t know what to do. She had nearly resigned herself to being forcefully ejected from the house when they were all arrested by the sound of Alan’s voice.
“Stop!” His tone was weak and not very loud, but they all heard him.
“Sarah!” he called to her.
Simon relaxed his grip in astonishment.
Sarah shook off his hold and returned to the bedside, leaning over Alan so she could hear what he wanted to say.
“Don’t leave... please... ” He struggled to get the words out, but they were clear enough once spoken.
Sarah looked back towards Simon and Rupert. Both of them wore a dark expression, neither one showing any sign of relief at seeing Alan conscious. Sarah wondered at the behaviour.
“He wants me to stay,” she said, just in case they hadn’t heard.
Without another word, Simon turned on his heel and marched from the room. It only took a split second for Rupert to follow him.
“What should I do with Miss Montgomery?” Rupert asked Simon as he followed the enraged man down the long hallway to the staircase.
“What do you suggest, Rupert. Throw her out of the house?”
Rupert paused before answering.
“Your brother is not suffering from an infection, sir. She is quite right.”
“And you heard the exchange between me and her father, didn’t you, Rupert? Well I won’t repent of that, man. Alan had it coming to him, and he deserves what he gets.”
“Shall I throw her out of the house, sir?”
“Alan has spoken, has he not? Let us see if she can save him. Perhaps some of those rumours about them were true. Perhaps something did go on between them when they were alone in the woods.”
Sarah sat down on the chair that stood next to the bed and put her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart.
“What on earth am I doing?” she asked herself, hardly believing the nerve she had found to confront the situation.
It was then that she became aware that Alan was still trying to communicate with her. She could hear a breathy sound coming from his throat. Quickly, she pulled the bell cord to summon Rupert, and then she bent over his prostrate form.
“Sarah?” It was a hoarse whisper.
“I’m here!” she said, taking hold of his hand and giving it a squeeze. She could see him desperately trying to open his eyes.
“What is it, sir?” Rupert hurried into the room in response to the bell.
“He’s stirring again,” Sarah looked up at the valet, almost begging him to join forces with her. Rupert came close to his master, on the opposite side of the bed to Sarah.
“Don’t leave me!” Alan’s words were weak and indistinct.
“It is all right, sir,” Rupert said, trying to gain his attention. But Alan would not look at his valet. His eyes searched frantically for Sarah, and when he spoke, it was to her alone. She didn’t quite know what to feel.
“Alan... ” she put her ear down close so that he could speak to her.
“Someone is trying to poison me,” he barely whispered. “Help me!”
hat did he say?” Rupert asked, his face a mask of granite.
Sarah struggled for something to say. Was Rupert the perpetrator?
“Well?” he raised his eyebrows impatiently.
“He believes someone is trying to poison him,” Sarah said straight out, unaware that she was behaving as if she had some authority in the matter.
“Are you sure that is what he said?” Rupert asked. He sounded as if he didn’t really believe her.
Sarah looked toward Alan. He was weak, but he was aware, and he almost imperceptibly shook his head, as if he didn’t want her to talk to Rupert.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” she said to Rupert.
“Then perhaps you had best just leave the master to those of us who are employed to take care of him.”
Sarah still had hold of Alan’s hand, and as Rupert spoke, she felt him squeeze her hand, not very strongly, but it was a squeeze nonetheless. She searched his face again, and saw him plead with her to stay.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Rupert. I believe your master wants me to stay with him.”
“Is that so, sir?” Rupert tried addressing Alan.
“Yes!” Alan’s answer was just above a whisper, but Rupert heard him.
“Very well, sir!” He turned and left the room.
Sarah found it difficult to understand Rupert’s attitude. Was he offended that Alan wanted her there instead of him, or was he simply hiding his guilt? Whatever it was, there didn’t seem to be any special concern for
his master. Was he, or was Alan’s brother administering a poison to the master of Mellington Hall. Nothing was impossible, Sarah decided, but what on earth could she do about it? Who was she to trust? The only person in the house who exchanged more than the briefest conversation with her was Lucinda, and she was, as housemaid, in no better position to help than Sarah herself.
She didn’t have the confidence to move from where she was, sitting right next to Alan, holding his hand, and simply praying for a solution to the dilemma. Eventually, Rupert came back into the room carrying a dinner tray.
“So, you are still here!” he said coldly. “And after your dramatic speech begging us to believe you are innocent.”
“I’m here to prevent your master from being poisoned anymore!” Sarah answered defiantly.
“You really believe that, then, do you?” Rupert’s demeanour gave nothing away.
“He spoke to me,” she went on, speaking with a confidence she didn’t always feel. “You saw that. He believes someone is trying to poison him.”
“Why hasn’t he spoken to me about it before?” Rupert sounded sceptical.
“Perhaps he doesn’t trust you,” Sarah dared to say aloud. “Perhaps he believes it is you who is trying to kill him!”
Once again, Sarah spoke before considering the implications of what she was saying. What if Rupert was the one who had attempted to murder his master? She was using bravado without wisdom, considering there was no one in the room to protect either of them, should Rupert be the one. “I assume you are the one who spoons that gruel into your master’s mouth.” Sarah continued perhaps foolishly.
“Of course! Who else?”
“Are you trying to poison your master?” Sarah asked pointedly.
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